


Any Day Now

by bermudablue



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Maybe Kinda Unfortunate?, Not All Humans Are Nice People, Post-Pacifist Route, Selectively Mute Frisk, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-03 18:12:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5301668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bermudablue/pseuds/bermudablue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The barrier was broken. The monsters were set free. The humans weren't very pleased.</p><p>Post-Pacifist Route where Sans spends most of his time working, some of his time sleeping and the remaining amount of time waiting for Frisk to reset already.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nervous Wreck

**Author's Note:**

> Just testing the waters a bit. Haven't written something worth posting in a while but what can I say? Undertale is pretty inspiring!

The view outside of the train window was dark and vast. If he didn't think about it too much then he could've imagined it was infinite. Sans had spent the whole train journey so far simply staring through it, trying to rest his mind some.

Unfortunately, it was beginning to make him feel a bit queasy so he turned his gaze to the train interior.

The seats were a plastic red, still a garish colour despite how old and scratched they were. Sans couldn't find it in himself to mind the colour though since it reminded him of his brother’s scarf. Stark artificial lighting ran down the length of the train that hurt his eyes after a while since it was so different from the magical lighting in the underground.

He looked down to his feet, propped up against the dirty brown floor. He was too short to plant them firmly and sit back.

At least he had a seat this time, he reasoned, last time he’d fallen flat on his tailbone when the train rocked.

There was a cry from the other end of the train carriage before it was quickly shushed and Sans twitched, feeling their gaze on his upturned hood.

He soon went back to gazing absentmindedly at the floor, trying to think of a good pun to tell to a small crowd of terrified humans.

His thoughts soon drifted though as he became hyper aware of one human in particular, a young woman holding an even younger child to her side and sending him fretful glances. She looked like a nervous wreck.

Nervous wreck.. he could make a pun out of nervous wreck, right? Something about an accident- no, no that’s too brutal. Maybe like a ship wreck?

Sudden noise sounded over the intercom, some garbled man speaking about the next stop so Sans stood up in preparation. A shriek came from one of the dozen humans.

At the end of his tether, Sans turned to them.

“Hey,” He called out, “Why did the train not wanna get into any accidents?”

The silence was predictable and as the train swayed to a slow stop, if Sans had a stomach it would've dropped.

“Cause he was a _nervous wreck_.” He snickered as the doors finally opened, making eye-contact with a giggling child in a sea of horrified humans as he cheerfully hopped off the train to a stunned silence.

\-----

After that it was only a bus journey home.

The long-suffering bus driver couldn't have cared less about things _humerus_ , so Sans decided to save it for a better audience. With the grim look he’d received after telling his Colum _bus_ joke he wouldn't be surprised if he’d be thrown off the bus.

He sat down on an empty seat, hood still pulled up and a scarf wrapped firmly around his jaw. His mind wandered back to the circumstances and toyed with the idea of taking a nap.

After Frisk had set them free, monsters had spilled out of the mountain and into the humans lands. The humans had not been as welcoming as expected.

Most of the monsters had retreated after one of them had been killed. Their hopes had dimmed after the loss of one of their own and the unrelenting hatred of the humans. Asgore had travelled a long way to speak with the human leader while Toriel held down the fort at the mountain, refusing to retreat back into the mountain at the humans insistence.

As far as Sans knew, Toriel was already organising efforts for a temporary settlement to be built at the base of the mountain for any monsters that wanted to come to the human world but it was dangerous.

If the humans decided to come at them with full force, they’d have no chance.

Of course, the vast majority of humans didn’t even know they existed so they were pretty safe for now, hiding in the dense forests far away from the city.

Papyrus, however, had no fear over the humans.

 _Brother_ , he’d pleaded earnestly _, can we go to the big cities like the ones Frisk has described to me!_

Then Papyrus had used the puppy dog eyes when he knew that Sans couldn’t resist them so it had been up to him to find a way to get them there.

He was pulled out of his musing as the dark streets outside the window became more and more familiar. He stood up on aching bones and pushed the bell.

\---

A short walk down pitch black streets and four flights of stairs later, Sans was unlocking the door to their flat with a relieved sigh and a wider grin.

“Sans!” Papyrus called out gleefully from the kitchen, “How was your da- AH!”

He was swiftly interrupted by a large bang and the clattering of pots and pans cascading to the floor. There was another loud yell but Sans just snorted and slipped his scarf from around his neck, letting the door slam shut behind him.

“Try not to wreck the apartment bro, inspections next week.”

“It wasn’t me-” Another clang, sounded like a frying pan, “It was the-!”

And that was all the warning he got before three and a half feet of tiny human crashed into his middle.

“Sans!” They screeched out as they both fell backwards onto the floor, Frisk ending up sitting right on his ribs.

“Heya kiddo,” He started then let out a pained noise as Frisk started bouncing up and down in excitement, grinning madly, “Geez, watch the ribs. What’s Tori been feeding you?”

“I don’t know what her Majesty has been feeding them most of the time but from the amount of pie the human has brought with them..” Papyrus called from the kitchen.

Papyrus poked his head around the divide between the kitchen and the main room and grinned down at the sight, “I believe the human has eaten a great many pies since we have last seen them! Look how much they have grown!”

Frisk laughed and shook their head, patting their stomach with two hands. They pointed to the kitchen and replied, “Haven’t eaten many. More in there than eaten.”

The tall skeleton nodded thoughtfully and while Frisk was distracted, Sans took the time to disappear from underneath them and reappeared next to them.

Frisk blinked in confusion but took the hand Sans offered to them and was pulled to their feet.

“Well then, human!” Papyrus bellowed, “I’ll simply have to make you some of my glorious spaghetti to encourage your appetite!”

“Yeah,” Sans added in a whisper, “Don’t worry kid, we’ll help out this time incase Master Chef over here gets too creative.”

Papyrus didn’t notice and continued his babbling, “If you eat nothing but pie then you might end up as short as Sans and that simply won’t do!” He marched off into the kitchen, flapping his hands and apron strings flapping valiantly in the wind behind him.

“Heh, but don’t you know what they say about short skeletons?”

“ _SANS_ , you can’t say that in front of the small humans!”

“Eh, just kiddin’.”

\---

An hour later and the three of them were bunched up together on their two-seater couch with Frisk in the middle, a skeleton on either end and a steaming plate of spaghetti in each of their laps. Their battered television was blaring away but it was mostly background noise to them.

It turns out that Toriel has sent Frisk down to stay with them for a while after they’d pestered her so much about it.

Papyrus had been more than overjoyed to answer a knock to his door and find Frisk kicking at the dirty carpeted floor of the hallway with their shoes. Greater Dog had loomed behind them, making happy little barks. The dog had handed them a note from Toriel explaining the situation before bounding off down the hallway and nearly crashing into another resident just leaving their own apartment.

Frisk hadn’t said much about it but while Papyrus’ back had been turned, had given Sans a meaningful look and slipped him a sealed envelope.

Back in the present, they talked about Toriel’s latest project instead as they devoured their own plates of a surprisingly decent meal.

“So her Majesty is building a school then?” Papyrus gasped into his gloved hands, looking over at Sans as Frisk nodded cautiously.

“Sans, do you think I could- ”

“Bro, no.” Sans laughed, eyes locked onto the television screen despite his brother’s pleading gaze.

“But I believe I could be an excellent teacher! Those young ones would surely flourish under the tutorage of the _Great Papyrus_!” He held a gloved hand to his chest and if the taller brother had hair, it would’ve been flowing behind him in the breeze like he was a movie hero.

Sans ate a meatball and sighed. He turned his head so he could grin up at his brother.

“If you wanna go be a teacher then I won’t stop you. If you’re this good with Frisk then I’m sure you’d be fine with a couple more sproglets running around your ankles.”

Papyrus puffed out his chest at the praise and Frisk giggled into their hands.

“Buuuuut,” Sans drew out the word, regretting his next words already, “You need to think a bit more about it. How are you going to get there everyday? ‘Cause I don’t mind moving back to live with the others, hell, we’ll see more of the pipsqueak over here if we do..”

Frisk looked down at their plate, making swirls in the long pasta with their fork before stabbing a meatball with determination. Papyrus slumped for a moment but after a few beats of silence perked straight up again.

“Wait a moment! How did the human get here if the distance is so far to travel?” Papyrus looked down at Frisk expectantly.

The young human shrugged and simply replied, “Piggyback.”

Papyrus lifted a gloved hand to his mandible and thought for a moment, “I could- ”

“No you couldn’t,” Sans shook his head, prodding at a leftover meatball with his fork. He heard mumbling coming from beside him and flicked the meatball onto Frisk’s plate without hesitation.

“You’re right,” Papyrus sighed, gazing down at his empty plate, “It wouldn’t be all that fair to the Greater Dog would it?”

“Ahh, cheer up bro,” Sans leaned forward to grab Frisk’s plate, pleased to see it was empty, and stacked it on top of his own. He dumped them both on the coffee table without a thought and then laid back lazily.

“Could teach humans?” Frisk suggested, scooting backwards now that they were free of their plate and curling up against Papyrus.

Papyrus perked back up again and Frisk sent Sans an alarmed look. Sans just shrugged in response and winked, too used to his own brother’s eccentric behaviour by now.

“That’s it, Sans! I could teach the humans!” Papyrus squinted at the television, “Maybe I could teach others my vast culinary experience! It must simply be shared with the world as Undyne tutored me as a young skeleton..”

The taller skeleton lept up with enthusiasm, nearly spilling his plate and Frisk onto the floor were it not for his shorter brother grabbing both with blue magic.

“I need to contact Undyne,” He cried out with his arm flung into the air, “Immediately!”

Papyrus ran into the kitchen without further fanfare except for Frisk’s high-pitched laughter.

Sans sunk backwards into their ratty couch even more, eyes closed and looking on the verge of taking a nap.

“Sans?” Frisk nudged his shoulder with the side of their head until the short skeleton lifted up his arm and let them bury underneath it.

“What’s up, kiddo?” The small child shivered slightly and Sans opened one eye to peer down at them. “You cold or somethin’?”

They nodded rapidly, burrowing into his jacket even more. Sans sighed.

“I’ll get you a jumper or somethin’ in a bit.” He didn’t want to say anything more about it. He would’ve loved to tell them that he’d put the heating on but there was no way they could afford it with their rent looming over them.

They sat there for a while, Frisk leeching warmth from the short skeleton while they listened to Papyrus’ excited chatter over the phone, asking for recipes and such.

Sans was pleasantly snoozing away, content with a full stomach though he was distantly aware that if he didn’t stop Papyrus now then he’d probably get really carried away with this idea. He drifted in between thinking up a solution and being lured into a slice of that pie in the kitchen before he was rudely interrupted by ice cold fingers patting his cheek.

“Whuh?” Sans blinked his eyes open despite the weight of them, to the sight of Frisk frowning over him.

“Why so...” Frisk started to ask, but the words got jumbled up in their head again so they just motioned to his face.

“Why am I so what? Why am I so awesome?” Sans grinned back at them in a teasing manner, fully aware they were referring to his dreadful appearance.

Frisk sighed and pulled at their own eyes. They let go and frowned at him again, although this time it looked more like a pout.

“Tired? Sick?” They asked, in an unimpressed tone.

Sans shifted uncomfortably, “Y’know what I’m like, kid. I gotta actually do work, now. It’s draining my energy.” He closed one eye and shrugged it off like usual, “I’ll get used to it.”

Frisk opened their mouth to say more but Papyrus chose that moment to interrupt with a yell of his brother’s name.

“What’s up, bro?” Sans called back, relief audible in his voice. Frisk narrowed their eyes.

“You still haven’t done the dishes while I was speaking on the phone! We had a deal, brother! I cook and you wash-up, _lazybones_!”

“Okay, fine, I’m moving.” Sans shifted himself but Frisk jabbed a finger right into his sternum.

“Not. Over.” They grumbled and then sat back to let the skeleton pass.

Sans got up without hesitation this time, gathering the plates into a pile with a flick of his wrist and retreated to the kitchen.

“Geez, kid’s turning out more like Tori everyday,” He muttered to himself.


	2. I'm With Skeletons

Frisk faced Sans with determination. Sans had a tiny hysterical thought about what happened the last time they stared each other down like this but it dissipated at how adorable they currently looked. Too adorable to kill anything.

They were currently stuffed into one of Sans’ old t-shirts. It was a size too large on Sans so it absolutely buried the human in greyish fabric with ‘ _I’m with stupid._ ’ scrawled on the front. Except Papyrus had took it upon himself to alter it so it was more appropriate for them and had thus changed the ‘ _stupid_ ’ to ‘ _skeletons_ ’. Sans found it pretty funny.

“Don’t want sleep yet!” Frisk barked, looking near ready to throw a tantrum, “Want to stay up with puzzles!”

Sans mentally cursed his brother for putting ideas in their head like this. Papyrus was oblivious to it all, brushing his teeth in the bathroom while loudly humming.

“C’mon Frisk, you need your sleep. How else are you gonna wake up in time for pancakes tomorrow?” He reasoned with the child, gently guiding them by the shoulder into the main bedroom.

“But.. don’t want to!” Frisk mumbled, looking down at their socked feet with a quivering lower lip and watery eyes. 

Sans was almost impressed. Almost.

He rolled his eyes and remained unmoved by it all, “Come on, kid. You know that crocodile tears won’t work on me. Have you seen who my brother is?”

Frisk grumbled to themselves and dropped the act, “Worth a shot.”

“Yeah, I know. Maybe if I was Tori.” He slipped his hand off their shoulder to gesture to their meagre collection of storybooks, “So you wanna pick one or leave it to Pap?”

Frisk cheered up a little and wandered over to the small pile on the floor, lifting them up and examining each closely before setting it aside.

Sans would’ve loved to bring their large collection of books from their home but it was a pretty long trip and the skeleton was pretty lazy. He was very tempted to go back home for his joke-quantum mechanics book though. This place didn’t feel right without that sitting on the coffee table.

A loud gargling noise echoed from the bathroom before slightly quieter spitting noise followed. A few moments later and Papyrus was striding into the room, already dressed in his own equivalent of pajamas- a long t-shirt that said “ _Taco Tuesday_ ” and a pair of canary yellow shorts.

He made a noise of delight and immediately began chatting to Frisk about the contents of each book.

“Oh! _George the Goat_! That’s a good one. The story is about a very small goat by the name of George and his struggle to avoid eternal isolation from his own kind. But then there’s a twist where they find a -” Papyrus babbled, waving his hands around enthusiastically as Frisk read through the blurb next to him.

Sans looked at his wrist, “Guys can we hurry this up a bit? I’ve got places to be.”

Frisk glanced up at him in confusion, “Where?”

“Work. Now get a move on before the sun rises. If I stand here any longer I think I’m gonna turn into a fossil.”

Frisk grinned up at him cheekily and held up an especially thick book. Papyrus made even more noise about this one. Apparently it was a favourite.

“Ahhh, _Mean Green And Other Tales_! Excellent choice.” Papyrus scooped them both up and jumped onto the double bed, vibrating with excitement, “The conflict in this story is easily one of the most relatable!”

Sans smirked down at Frisk, well aware of the challenge that had been presented to him.

"Right then," He settled at the edge of the bed and tried his best to blink the sleep from his eyes. Papyrus tucked his and Frisk's legs under the heavy blanket, smoothing it out and staring up at Sans eagerly. He was half sure he'd fall asleep himself before he finished the bedtime story, never mind getting Papyrus to sleep.

"There once was a monster so very mean," Sans began to speak in a low and sleepy tone, "Who had an enormous mane of hair bright green."

\---

He’d finished the story in record time and to his credit, only fell asleep one. Frisk had been kind enough to prod him with their foot whenever his eyes had started drooping, which had happened more than he would’ve prefered. The last thing he needed was for Papyrus to notice and refuse to let him go to work like last time.

Still he felt a lot better for having indulged his brother, who was snoozing away without a care in the world. Frisk had snorted at the sight of Papyrus so quiet but for the little “nyeh”s coming out with each breath.

Sans had given Frisk a quick kiss on the forehead, realising already that the human probably wouldn’t sleep for a while anyway. They didn't seem like the type to sleep without nightmares. He’d donned his work clothes, wrapped his scarf tight around his jaw and managed to catch the next bus to the edge of the city with no trouble.

But despite his best efforts he was late anyway. Not that it really mattered- a human woman he knew was on duty tonight and she winked and motioned zipped lips at him.

After that she’d simply donned her heavy coat and walked off the site. Sans got the message loud and clear though- ‘Don’t tell anyone I’m leaving two hours early and I won’t tell them you’re half an hour late’.

It was a pact they’d made since they’d exchanged a few gruff words in the first week. Lazybones needed to stick together after all.

The job itself was as a security guard for a collection of warehouses gathered on the edge of the city, right by the docks. Getting the job had been a spot of luck really after he’d met his current employer through a hint another co-worker had dropped at one of his other jobs.

The owner of this dingy establishment was a stout human only a few inches taller than Sans with an impressive bushy mustache. Sans had no doubt that there was some dodgy business going on inside of one of the warehouses with the Level of Violence he felt coming off the man. But the man, Mr. Ordidge, had been pleasant enough if a bit too enthusiastic about him being a monster.

Sans is pretty certain he’s only employed because his employer has high hopes that he’ll scare off any “interested parties” with his appearance alone. More evidence that didn’t put Ordidge in the best light.

But at the end of the day, money was money so what did it matter if strange brown packages were delivered in the dead of night? Or if one of the warehouses was always set on suspiciously high heat and smelt of plants?

The only other guard on duty was a human in the main office watching the security cameras. He was middle-aged, balding and Sans forgot if his name was Jerry or Ronald because he was honestly that boring.

So the short skeleton took his time walking alongside the metal fence around the perimeter, whistling cheerfully to himself and trying to think up any jokes about fences.

Eventually when he came back to where he started, he decided it was a good enough time for a break. He sat himself down in a spot away from the all seeing eyes of Jerry/Ronald and fished Tori’s letter out of his jacket pocket.

‘ _Dear Sans_ ,’ the letter began, ‘ _I hope you’ll forgive me for this but I have a lot to ask of you…_ ’

Sans, who had been grinning at the sight of Toriel’s elegant cursive writing, started to frown as the letter went on. It wasn’t exactly the good news he had been hoping for.

Toriel, bless her sensitive heart, was worried about Frisk. The young human was getting quieter as the days went on and when she’d tripped over calling Tori “Mother” it had been the last straw for her.

The queen wanted him to find Frisk’s parents.

Sans immediately cringed away from the idea. Too much hard work, too much effort and not to mention the capacity for heartbreak this whole scenario had. Didn’t she realise that the kid had been wandering around a mountain alone on purpose?

Tori’s gentle heart had sympathy for Frisk’s parents. In the letter, she confessed that she wanted to sooth the fears she thought they had. She probably imagined a whole family of fretful humans worried for their missing child.

But the stout monster knew that the world wasn’t that nice. Kids got abandoned sometimes. Even monster kids weren’t safe from the abandonment of their elders.

He looked back down at the letter with a frown before he picked up the envelope again. He opened it up slightly and dug out a few coins Tori had stuffed at the bottom.

Another thing she’d asked of him was to buy Frisk new clothes. He knew straight off the bat that this wouldn’t be enough money to buy even half an outfit. But at least this was something he could deal with.

In a weird reverse of the normal, Sans had been working hard these past few weeks to the point that they actually had spare money leftover. Of course, they’d have to budget a bit more fiercely so they still had enough left over for looming spectre of rent but if Papyrus stopped buying the fancier spaghetti brands..

Sans snorted to himself and got to his feet. His portable radio, the one they’d given him for this job, had started to crackle ominously with static. It always did that when Jerry/Ronald hadn’t spotted him for a while.

He walked out of his little hiding space, throwing a little wave at one of the cameras and therefore at the annoyed human. He sighed to himself, straightening his guard cap and started to walk another lap around the perimeter.

\---

It was early in the morning by the time he got back. He let the door slam behind in an expression of pure relief, nearly ripping his scarf in his rush to get it off.

The dim light in the apartment was a cool balm on his sore eyes and the half open door leading to the bedroom felt like a black hole. Sans could imagine it now, complete darkness and wrapped up in a cocoon of soft blankets-

“Sans?”

Sans groaned in despair and rolled his eyes to the heavens. It was 6 in the morning, how in the stars did Papyrus get up this goddamn early?

He managed to school his features into a friendly expression as Papyrus came around the divide in his favourite tatty halloween apron. He was holding up a spatula and grinning enthusiastically.

“Oh _Saaaaans_ ,” The taller brother called out, “I’ve made pancakes if you want them!”

“Nah, sorry bro. I’m gonna have to pass on this occasion,” Sans rolled his head to the side until it made a satisfying click. He held his hands up in the air and gave a careless shrug, “Give my share to the kid, wouldya?”

“But Sans!” Papyrus whined, “I’ve spent a long time on these and you just want to laze around in bed all day instead!”

Too tired to argue, Sans let out a loud annoyed sigh and followed the other into their small kitchen. It was about the size of their other one in all honesty but the salmon pink walls made it seem a lot smaller.

Papyrus returned to his place in front of their stove while Sans diverted to where Frisk was sitting on a kitchen counter, swinging their legs against the cabinet door underneath.

“What’s cookin’, shortstack?”

Frisk looked up from their plate and blinked at him slowly, “Pancakes..?”

“Uh, right then. Guess you’re not working at full capacity in the morning.”

Frisk’s only answer was an impressive yawn.

Sans wasn’t that easily deterred though. “What’s that brown stuff?” He asked.

“Nella. Nuh-tell-lella” Frisk tripped over the words sleepily. They continued to mumble over the pronunciation of it, even as they scooped up a large dollop up of it with a piece of pancake and stuffed it into their mouth. Sans took the opportunity to swipe a bit onto his finger to steal a taste.

“Mm,” He made a noise of approval, “Kinda like chocolate but goopy.”

They remained in silence for a while, Frisk licking chocolate off their spoon determinedly while Sans watched his brother bustle back and forth animatedly.

“Hey Frisk, did you hear about the angry pancake?”

“Nooo,” Frisk said, grinning in anticipation.

“Well, apparently he just _flipped_.”

Frisk giggled and offered some nutella to him off the end of their spoon. Sans took it with a small happy noise and took it without hesitation, finding his general amusement at the situation building as they watched Papyrus attempting to wrestle with the microwave.

“Watch pancake though,” Frisk commented idly, sounding more awake by the minute, “Not cake. Spaghetti.”

Sans felt his soul drop in mild horror but before he could make an excuse to back out, he was being handed a warm plate by a nervous-looking Papyrus. Looking closely, it appeared to be cooked spaghetti mushed into a vaguely disc shape and then flattened. At least he’d been kind enough to sprinkle some sugar and lemon on the top...

Frisk giggled and slid the jar of nutella towards him, “Guh luck.”


	3. Lunch

Three hours later and Sans couldn’t help but feel a slight tinge of regret.

Despite his gut-feeling, he ate the ‘spagcake’ anyway at Papyrus’ insistence and it was definitely coming back to haunt him. He was currently curled up on his side, clutching at the empty space where his gut should be and despite not existing, it was giving him a _lot of pain_. Still, at least he had a good excuse to stay in bed on his day off from work.

He’d sent Papyrus and Frisk out into the world a few hours earlier. Frisk still needed new clothes and the two brothers couldn’t get away with dressing the kid in oversized t-shirts forever, no matter how amusing it looked.

Sans had pointed them towards the drawer in the kitchen which held all of their funds. He told them not to take all of it and for them to keep the rent in mind. After giving them directions to the nearest thrift shop, he shooed them out the door without a second thought and trudged off to bed, dead on his feet.

Hopefully, between Papyrus’ enthusiasm and Frisk’s common sense, they’d get the job done without overspending too much.

He spent the next few hours alternating between berating his willingness to please his brother and sleeping fitfully. This cycle was only interrupted by Toriel texting him twice, asking after Frisk and by Papyrus and Frisk when they eventually returned.

The door slammed loudly, chain rattling against it and Sans was startled out of his uneasy snoozing.

“Human! Where do I put this wire?” Was that Papyrus? Geez, they were back early. 

The sound of childish giggling floated through the ajar door, followed by an annoyed sound.

“This technology is so _confounding_!” Definitely Papyrus- who else spoke like that, really.

Sans made an annoyed sound of his own and curled deeper into his nest of blankets in an attempt to block out the noise. He vaguely registered Frisk mumbling something in the background.

“Oh! No, no, of course he won’t. My brother is much too lazy to get up before lunch on his off day.” Papyrus’ disappointed tone again. Sans felt a tinge of shame.

Not that it lasted long, because in the next few breaths he was out like a light.

\---

The next time he was awake, the midday light was spilling uncomfortably into his eyes and the whole flat smelled of tomato sauce.

He let out a loud groan of disgust at the cheerful, intrusive light and flopped over dramatically, wrapping himself up even more intricately.

He was half-tempted to scream his dismay into the pillow his face was currently buried into but that would’ve taken effort so he decided against it. The skeleton must’ve made some sort of noise though because a few moments later, Frisk was peeking around the door and into the dimly lit room.

“Sans?”

The only response was muffled grumbling and a flap of his hand. Frisk frowned in response.

“Sans. Lunch?” They repeated, hoping for a more enthusiastic response at the mention of food.

He tilted his head to the side, his one eye peering out from the nest of blankets, “Lunch? Wassit?” He mumbled.

Frisk snorted at the sight and entered the room properly. They tugged at the heap of blankets but to no avail. They pouted for a moment then jumped on the bed in an attempt to get more leverage.

“Lunch now! Come on, Sans. Lunch!” They chanted, giving up on pulling Sans out of the cocoon and tried to roll the whole bundle off the edge of the bed. “Sans! Can’t eat in bed! Crumbs!”

Sans gave it up as a bad job when Frisk actually managed to push him a few inches from the edge.

“Alright, alright,” He called out, “I’m going. Quit pushin’ me, kiddo.”

Frisk blew a raspberry at him in response so he pushed the blankets off in one movement, making sure they all landed on Frisk. He grinned to himself when all he could hear was muffled shrieks of laughter.

“Wow, I wonder where Frisk went..” Sans said thoughtfully, standing up with his back to the bed, “Guess they already left the room...”

An even louder childlike laugh was the only warning Sans got before Frisk burst free of the massive pile, the whole thing wrapped around their head and shoulders like some oversized cape.

“Revenge!” They called out and grabbed the skeleton around the neck.

In an instant, Sans was across the room, unable to breathe. He stared down at Frisk, struggling to keep his trademark grin on his face while he was shaking so badly.

“Uh, maybe.. maybe don’t do that again, kid.” He stuttered, “You might uh, hurt yourself.”

He tried to shake off the memory of another Frisk coming at him while he was too tired, a sharp knife and an even sharper grin-

The real Frisk just looked at him sadly from the midst of the blanket pile. They opened their mouth to say something but-

“Sans?” Papyrus called cheerfully, the tension evaporating instantly with his presence, “Are you up yet?”

Sans let out a sigh of relief and he felt a surge of gratitude for having a brother with such good timing, “Yeah, bro. Me and Frisk were just playfighting a bit. But I think it was a _bed_ idea to be honest.”

Frisk giggled a bit and Sans got the feeling that they were relieved as well. Time for his usual technique of dealing with things- sweep it under the rug (or maybe the bed?) and deal with it never.

“Oh no,” Papyrus poked his head around the door, much like the human did earlier, “Are they oka- wait was that a pun? _SANS._ ”

Sans just closed one eye, soaking up Frisk’s cheerful noises and grinned at him, , “What’s for lunch, bro?”

\---

For some reason, Papyrus had chosen this day of all days to pull out their tiny kitchen table.

It wasn’t much to look at, with two seats and a scratched wooden surface. They never really used it anyway since it was usually covered with a collection of books, papers and letters. Sometimes Sans stacked dirty plates on there when he was feeling too lazy to walk the extra three steps to the sink.

But today it had been pulled out and cleaned off, two placemats set out with gleaming cutlery. The only new addition was the stool made of bones, which he assumed the unluckiest of their trio was going to have to sit on. Sans couldn’t help but ask why.

“The Queen sent me a message earlier, asking if I could invest some time in teaching the human table etiquette.” At that point he began to ramble on about how he was obviously the best choice for the matter, despite the fact he’d never learnt table manners in his life.

Sans left him to it and made idle chatter with Frisk in the meantime. He didn’t need to wait long though.

“Voila!” Papyrus proclaimed, setting the bowl down with a flourish. He stepped back proudly but lingered eagerly to see his brother’s reaction.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t as pleased as he’d expect, “Uh, Papyrus?”

“Yes, brother?”

“What’s this?” Sans poked it fearfully with his fork, pushing some of the spaghetti back and forth in his examinations. The spaghetti was the only part he recognised.

“It’s one of the recipes her Majesty sent me! I believe the book called it ‘Noodles with Chicken’ but I only had spaghetti so uh,” Papyrus trailed off towards the end with a little cough.

Sans shrugged and started to eat it anyway. Can’t be worse than the spaghetti pancake earlier, right?

“Bone appetit.” He winked at Frisk, ignoring Papyrus’ groan of dismay.

To his surprise, it actually tasted decent, if a bit undercooked. The texture of the spaghetti with the chicken was really weird but if he ate them separate, it was bearable.

He immediately turned to his brother to give him compliments on the cooking. And several noodle related puns while he had the opportunity to.

Papyrus blushed, as always, “Well, there’s no need to tell me. I already knew it was good. Heh heh, as if the Great Papyrus could ever serve a bad meal, no matter how confusing the recipe was!”

The tall brother started cackling in his typical fashion before retrieving his own plate and sitting down on the stool with a satisfied grin.

Sans had already argued with Papyrus over who would sit on the bone stool but after an embarrassing minute of the stool being held far above his head, Sans decided to let it go. Curse his brother and his ridiculously tall stature…

Frisk was already halfway through their own noodles by the time Papyrus sat down. They glanced over at him with amusement. Or rather, glanced down at him.

“Short.” They commented.

Papyrus blinked at them, confusion written all over his face, “Yes. I am. Currently, I mean. I’m not always this short, you see.”

Frisk snorted, but then looked down at the stool curiously, “You make things from uh.. bone? What things?”

Papyrus perked up again and immediately started rambling again, “Of course I can, human. You’ve seen me make things from bone before, I believe. I remember making a really cool bone structure when I… fought against you..” He looked a bit embarrassed after that.

“Yes,” They said quietly, “I remember that.”

Papyrus looked even more embarrassed after that. Perhaps even a little guilty. Fortunately Sans didn’t have to feel bad about himself- he’d never attacked the kid. Well, in this timeline at least.

Frisk turned to look at him and in that one moment, Sans could’ve sworn they knew he’d...

But Sans had never been able to stand awkward silences so he cut in before it got too bad, “Y’know who taught him all that?”

Frisk looked absolutely fascinated all of a sudden, “Who? Was you?”

Sans nodded smugly, “Yep. I taught him most of it.”

The taller skeleton frowned, “No, you didn’t.”

“Yeah I did.”

“ _No_ , you didn’t.” Papyrus insisted.

“Well, I taught you the blue attack, didn’t I?”

“Honestly, brother,” Papyrus exclaimed, “That was my attack first! Do I need to keep your head tidy as well as your room?”

Frisk made a low hum and said something that sounded suspiciously like “sick burn.”

Sans rolled his eyes to the side and shook his head, “Alright, fine. You had the blue attack before me… but I’m pretty sure you got _that_ from Undyne.”

Papyrus made a groan of frustration. Frisk giggled to themselves.

Sans had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow I hope people like slow builds... I honestly meant to put some more plot into this I swear. Also I swear there is actually a plot. It's uh, it's getting there. Slooooowly..


	4. Robonado vs. Sharkzilla

Despite what he’d thought earlier, their casual dinner went by quickly.

Of course, Papyrus spent most of it explaining the variety of things you could do with each bit of cutlery as according to an etiquette book Toriel had gifted them. Sans enjoyed listening to his brother prattle on, occasionally interrupting with smart comments of course. It was nice to be around noise when he was feeling a bit down.

But Sans wondered if his brother had actually bought any clothes for the small human so regretfully, he had to cut the chatter short.

“So Pap,” He asked casually, “Did you have a _knife_ day?”

Papyrus groaned and muttered under his breath, “I should have realised you’d do that.” Sans just grinned at him.

“Soo..? Did you buy anything for the kid or did you just get ice cream instead?”

Papyrus squinted at him, “How did you- ”

“You’ve got some on your, ahem, _‘battlebody’_.” Papyrus made a noise of distress and looked down at the stain mournfully.

Frisk gave the taller skeleton a look of sympathy and patted them on the shoulder, “No worry. Maybe comes out in shower?”

Papyrus cheered up a bit after that. Sans pointedly repeated his earlier question of what they’d done.

“Oh yes, we ventured to the thrift shop to begin with!” Papyrus started cheerily, “Oh Sans, it was incredible. Such a variety of human trash in one place- and all in good quality!”

From then he started to list the many things they’d seen and the very few they’d bought while Sans nodded along attentively. The list of things they’d bought was worryingly long and contained a few things Sans was certain they didn’t need but Papyrus reassured him periodically that the things were cheap. Although why in the stars would they need mint green portable cassette player and a tiny china goat, Sans had no idea.

But as Papyrus described each article of clothing, he started to look a little nervous. Halfway through an enthusiastic description about a portrait of a yeti, he started to falter.

He stuttered once then stopped completely. Papyrus put his hands in his lap and looked down at them miserably.

“Uh, Papyrus?” Sans asked cautiously. Papyrus drew in a breath.

“Brother, I’m sorry!” He wailed out of the blue. Sans blinked in surprise.

“What’s wrong, bro?”

Papyrus put a hand over his mouth and looked away dramatically. Like he always did when he was a young kid and had done something wrong, Sans remembered fondly.

“I may or may not have bought something I shouldn’t have.” Papyrus paused, “I will give you a hint. I definitely bought something I should’ve have.”

“That’s not a hint.” Sans replied weakly, his mind already assuming the worst. He looked over at Frisk, who was sitting in silence. They met his gaze evenly and Sans swallowed nervously.

“Forgive me but I couldn’t stop myself! Frisk was telling me tales of what humans like to do for fun and they had these really cool things called “dee-dee-vees” that had a variety of -”

“What did you buy?” Sans asked through gritted teeth.

Papyrus coughed and glanced at him nervously. “A dee-dee-vee player..?”

Sans gasped dramatically, “No?”

Papyrus panicked, “I can explain- ”

Sans dropped the horrified act and shrugged instead. He cocked an eyebrow and admitted, “Eh, I have no idea what that is. Kid?”

Frisk shrugged, “DVD player. For movies.”

Sans frowned thoughtfully, “Okay so it’s a bit out of our price range.. and with the other stuff as well… Pap, how much change did you bring back?”

The room was silent.

“Uh Pap..?” Sans tried again, feeling his non-existent stomach drop, “You did bring back change, right?”

Papyrus clutched at the lower half of his skull again and replied faintly, “Well, brother, we went for ice cream so...” He slipped a hand into a pocket somewhere on his shorts and placed a few coins on the table.

Sans stared down at the money calmly.

Very slowly, he put his face in his hands and fought down the urge to start shouting.

Papyrus took that as a bad sign and started apologising and making excuses again. Sans ignored them. He repeated a mantra in head over and over - ‘ _It’s not his fault. He doesn’t understand human money. You can fix this, it doesn’t matter..._ ’

“Pap.” Papyrus stopped and looked at him anxiously. Sans mustered up a grin for him, though it looked more like a grimace.

“Don’t worry about it, bro. It doesn’t matter, alright? We can fix this.” He comforted him.

Frisk shifted uncomfortably at the edge of his vision. Sans got the feeling that they would be apologising as much as Papyrus if only they could get the words out. Sans closed his eyes for a moment so he wouldn’t have to look at them.

“It’s fine.” He sighed, “We can just take it back and get the money back- ” Frisk coughed.

“No refunds.” They shrugged helplessly.

‘ _So much for quitting that dishwashing job at the diner..._ ’ Sans thought idly.

A silence settled between them as Sans thought long about what to do. Papyrus was wringing his hands nervously while Frisk solemnly pushed their remaining noodles around on their plate.

After about five minutes silence, Papyrus often opening his mouth to say something only to change his mind shut it again, Frisk made a humming noise under their breath and tapped on the tall skeleton’s shoulder.

“What is it small human?” He inquired. Frisk simply pointed to their plate.

Papyrus seemed to surprise himself with his own laughter. He beamed down at the plate and then at Frisk, “It looks like me!”

Frisk grinned and nodded. Sans couldn’t help but blink himself out of his thoughts and glanced over at the plate. He mustered up a small smile.

“I would recognise that handsome visage anywhere.” Papyrus put his hand to his jaw and posed dramatically, “In the ensuing silence, you were surely captivated by my striking profile. Worry not human, I shall have this framed in remembrance of your undying love!”

Sans snorted despite himself and Papyrus became uncharacteristically subdued again. The taller brother cleared his throat and peered at him nervously.

“Sans?”

“Yeah?”

He tapped his fingers on the table, “We wanted to surprise you, you know. With the movies, I mean.”

Sans stayed silent.

Papyrus stood up, still trying to make eye-contact with his brother. He said quietly, “We were going to have a ‘movie night’, as Dr. Alphys calls it. Apparently it is a human family tradition... Unfortunately, we have none of those human documentaries that Undyne is so fond of but we have a variety of other movies that Frisk picked out?” He began to sound a little brighter at the end in the hopes of convincing his brother.

Sans sighed down at the table then shrugged helplessly, “Sounds great.” He made a point to look Papyrus in the eye as he continued, “I’m not angry at you, y’know. I just wish we had a little more... stuff.” He finished lamely.

Papyrus brightened up even more after that and grinned down at him forgivingly, “It’s alright, brother. I know it isn't your fault. Now come on already! Frisk assured me that I would be picking the first movie and- ”

Sans didn’t argue as he grabbed his hand and dragged him into the other room. The small skeleton merely grinned up at his brother with love and tried to push their money troubles out of his mind.

Frisk waited until they left the room to look up from their plate. They let out a guilty sigh.

They pulled out their phone and began to type.

\---

In all honesty, the ‘movie night’ thing had been pretty fun.

Sans had only fallen asleep twice. Papyrus had been annoyed the first time and woken him up immediately but after the second time, Frisk tapped him on the shoulder and shook their head.

Papyrus had accidentally startled him awake anyway. Sans was a heavy sleeper but even he had been woken up by the tall skeleton’s angry tirade of why the skeletons had to be sent back to Hell. Sans had a vague feeling that they shouldn’t have let Frisk pick the movies when one of the skeletons pulled out a gun and started firing wildly into a pack of radioactive gorillas.

Oh well. It was probably one of the lesser weird things he’d seen in his life, Sans reasoned.

But the only problem with it was the whole ‘night’ thing. The trio had stayed up and watched terrible movies like “ _Night of the Skeletons_ ” and “ _Robonado vs. Sharkzilla_ ” for hours on end.

Papyrus had complained at the fate of the enemies - especially when one of the skeletons had been chased away when the protagonist had splashed milk on them, and usually expressed embarrassment whenever a random romantic subplot would spring up. Sans made puns aplenty and poked fun at the characters whenever they got too serious - “ _C’mon man it’s a tornado made of robots. I don’t think this is a threat to national security._ ” Frisk merely took it all in good humour and often imitated whatever silly scene was happening on the screen.

At one point, there had been a dramatic scene where Sharkzilla had stormed the city and started smashing buildings. Frisk had leapt from their seat and started copying the monster, stomping their feet comically and making chomping noises. Papyrus had played along and pretended to be the “Robonado”, making "whoosh"ing noises and spinning in circles. He'd tackled them playfully and tickled them until they squealed for mercy.

They’d watched at least two movies and one sequel. Probably about five hours straight with only a break for snacks.

Something Sans was coming to regret in the early hours of the morning.

As he rolled himself off the couch, the sound he made couldn’t have been described has anything else but a hysterical groan. Their new second-hand DVD player flashed the time at him in neon red light and Sans felt a small swell of frustration. He had work in an hour or so but his head was pounding and he could feel the weight underneath his eyes.

“Goddamnit Frisk,” He mumbled to himself and pressed his fingers to his eye sockets, “When are you gonna reset already?”

' _I don't know how much longer I can do this._ '

He sat in the bleak morning light for a few moments, trying to quietly compose himself for the day ahead. His legs were stretched out in front of him in the dim light and he could hear soft snoring coming from their only bedroom.

He briefly thought about joining them, all three of them squished together in one bed like a pile of kittens. But as tempting as that thought was, their funds were low and rent was looming...

He rubbed at his brow and heaved himself to his feet.


	5. Hands and Feet

A few days later and Sans was dreaming.

He held a clipboard in his shaky hands, obediently jotting down Dr. Gaster’s rapid thoughts as he signed them out. They both knew that Gaster could be writing instead but he spoke and thought with his hands so it was easier this way.

Their experiments with injecting determination into various things hadn’t gone as well as planned. The flowers were showing no sign of change and the human remains had shown no sign of life. Unless maggots counted as life.

But over the past few days, Gaster had become obsessed with his own creation. The Core.

It was the eccentric doctor’s creation as much as Sans was and he was slowly becoming overly enamoured with it.

The Core had been built with the purpose of converting geothermal energy into other forms, which was an easy enough principle. But the amount of energy required to power the vast acres of underground caverns where the monsters resided was more than it could produce on its own. Gaster had ended up adding his own reality warping magic to make up the difference and make it all possible.

As if reading Sans’ thoughts, Gaster warped his cup of tea from his desk and into his hands. He took a long sip and looked down at the young skeleton thoughtfully.

Sans had been awake for a long time at this point. Gaster was used to long hours but the young skeleton was barely thirteen years old and his eyes were drooping.

The cup vanished from his hands and landed back on the desk with a clatter of fine bone china. He started to move his hands again but Sans’ vision was blurry. His hand twitched violently and sent a black line skidding through a few pictograms. 

The lab assistant shook his head and squinted his eyes. He put down the pen and clipboard sheepishly and signed back a quick request for him to repeat the last sentence.

Gaster permanent grin took on a malicious edge that made Sans wary. The older scientist made sure to sign out extra slowly this time.

“ _i said, why did you let them kill papyrus_ ”

\---

He gasped himself awake and then choked on the inhaled breath.

A pressure was built up in his ribcage and he tried quietly coughing to relieve it. It didn’t work and by the mumbling and shifting in the bed next to him, he’d only succeeded in waking up one of the others.

He resisted the urge to swear and listened carefully.

After a few moments of silence, Frisk was the one to sit up in the darkness of the room. Papyrus hadn’t even stirred. They looked over Papyrus’ sleeping form and straight at Sans. He could feel their suspicious gaze even in the gloom.

“Sans?” They whispered quietly and Sans tried to focus on the dog barking a few houses down. Anything was better than listening to the pity in their voice.

A few more beats of quiet and Sans thought he’d managed to dodge the bullet but no. Frisk climbed down from the bed and made their way around to the other side. They nudged at Sans.

“Stressed.” Frisk bit out, and when he cracked one eye open slightly, the street lights leaking orange light into the room edged their frown menacingly, “You’re stressed, aren’t you?”

Sans resolutely closed his eye again. He let out a breath slowly, feigning sleep.

“Know you’re awake.” They whispered again.

There was a sound as Frisk shifted back and forth on their feet. Papyrus let out a loud “nyeh” as he rolled over into the empty space Frisk had left. Sans focused on counting his breaths as he waited for the human to get bored.

“Can’t sleep.” They whimpered, nudging him again, “Please?”

Sans’ soul ached in sympathy at that and he pulled up the blanket in front of him. Frisk made a happy noise and squeezed themselves into the space he’d created.

The silence was oppressive and when Papyrus mumbled something in his sleep, Sans couldn’t help but startle. He swallowed once, despite his lack of throat and whispered into the darkness,

“What were you dreamin’ about, kiddo?”

The human hiccuped and Sans mentally prayed to whoever was out there that they didn’t start crying.

“Bad.” They mumbled, their emotions getting the better of them and jumbling up their words.

“Bad time.” They continued after a moment. Sans felt an itchy feeling at the back of his skull but he was too tired to figure out what it meant.

The human rolled over so they were facing the skeleton. Sans couldn’t see anything since they had their back to the light leaking in from the outside. He got the feeling they could see him just fine.

“Sans, do you hate me?”

That was a tough question and he felt his face shift unintentionally.

Frisk was a good kid, that he couldn’t deny but they were the source of the resets. They were the reason the timeline was unstable- or rather, part of the reason. So many times the kid had made him suffer, killed him and even killed his brother.

Even now, they taunted him without knowing it. He trusted that they were a good kid, deep down, but he wondered what would happen when they got bored with their new life. They’d reset just like last time and everyone would be in the dark once more. Maybe they’d start killing again.

Sans spent a long time thinking over the question. He didn’t find an answer.

So instead of answering the small human, he fell asleep.

\---

The next time he woke up, it was to Papyrus’ singing and the clatter of pots and pans.

For a second, he thought he was in his own bed at home and that a reset had come and gone. But then he moved and a spring poked into his back. He made a noise of discontent and rolled over in frustration.

He opened his eyes slightly and stared at the nightstand. The tiny china goat from the thrift shop gazed back at him with beady painted eyes.

“What do you call a goat with one ear?” Sans asked the china goat solemnly.

The china goat did not reply.

“Don’t worry,” He comforted it, “I’ve _goat_ this. It’s _Van Goat_.”

More silence. What a meaningful conversation.

‘ _I should call Toriel._ ’ Sans thought instead of quizzing the inanimate object further.

He flipped onto his back and stared up at the ceiling and pondered his life. Making puns at tiny china goats. Having dreams about Ga- about old bosses. Staying up until 3 am last night watching his brother make cookies out of spaghetti.

Considering how strange his life had been before this, he wondered if it had gotten weirder or less weird. Oh well.

It was about four in the afternoon. His nightly shift started in about two hours. Enough time for a nap? He was oh so tempted but...

Sans snorted and rubbed a hand over his face, “Better not risk it.”

He rolled over until he landed on his feet. He changed his clothes for a fresh ones leisurely, even taking a short break between putting on socks just because he could. He looked down at his socked foot and then the other, sockless foot. He wiggled his skeletal toes.

“Dreams about Gaster, huh?” He mumbled to himself, “Seems like something’s _afoot_.”

\---

Quite a while later, Sans wandered into the living room in search of food. Frisk was sitting on the floor in front of the television again, looking absolutely captivated. Sans would bet half his stash of condiments that they’d been there all afternoon.

“How long have you been sittin’ there, kiddo?” He ruffled their hair as he walked past. They made a short humming noise but didn’t draw their eyes from the screen.

“You’ll get square-eyes if you watch too much tv, y’know,” Sans teased them gently, nudging them with his foot. Frisk blinked up at him and frowned.

“Not true.” They insisted, “Adults just say that when they wanna watch.”

Sans made a face and made a questioning noise, “Oh? And what do adults usually watch?”

Frisk shrugged then turned back to the television just as the heroine whipped out a gun and started firing wildly at a shark.

Seemed like Frisk was having one of their quiet days. Sans shrugged one shoulder in response and wandered into the kitchen.

Papyrus had stopped singing a while ago but he continued to hum along and tap his feet while he sorted out the laundry. He had bulky headphones on his skull that were hooked up to a mint green cassette player on his hip. Sans figured it was the same one they’d bought from the thrift shop a few days ago.

Papyrus was in his own little world, sorting clothes into different piles. It took two calls of his name and a tap on the shoulder before he noticed his brother.

“Sans!” He shouted, slipping the headphones to around his neck, “Are you alright, brother?”

“Yeah, Pap. M’fine.” He replied, soaking up his brother’s general good cheer. The short skeleton made his way over to the fridge, peering inside idly.

“Hey, what’s for dinner?” Sans asked, pushing aside some containers of spaghetti in search of something that caught his interest. Frisk had eaten his last packet of _popato chisps_ and he’d forgotten to add it to the weekly shopping list. Or at the very least, he’d been too lazy.

“Spaghetti,” His brother replied, apparently finishing whatever he was sorting out and starting to load the washing machine.

Sans frowned when his search turned up with nothing. He closed the door and started searching through the cupboards.

“Anything other than spaghetti?” He asked, hyper-aware of when Papyrus shot him a poorly disguised wounded look.

“Is something wrong with spaghetti?”

“No, no,” Sans was quick to reassure. He turned to his only brother and forced grinned in what he hoped was a cheeky manner, “I just want something with _grease_ in it, y’know?”

Papyrus made a noise of disgust and turned back to the laundry pile, his fears abated, “You know what I think of grease, brother. It’s no good for the bones- ”

“Hey, it keeps my joints lubricated.”

“- and furthermore, it’s not good for Frisk- ” Papyrus turned to him with an incredulous look, “Sans, was that a joke?”

“Nooooo..?”

“ _Sans.”_

“I’m just sayin’ bro, I need grease to keep my motor running. I’m sure Frisk a- _grease_ with me.”

Papyrus threw his hands up in the air and turned around to hide his smile. Sans grin became a lot less forced at the sight of his brother holding back his amusement and he had a brief spark of hope that things could stay like this forever.

He snuffed it out and started making his way to the door.

“Well, sorry bro but I’ve got places to be. I’ll get something on the way there.”

Sans didn’t need to look at Papyrus to feel the disapproval coming off him waves. He could feel him building up for a long lecture and might have sped up a little after he left the room. In the living room, Frisk was looking over the back of the couch at him and looking very amused.

“ _SANS._ You come back here! I shan’t have my brother wandering the streets without a proper meal!”

Sans poked his head back around the doorway, “Hey bro, knock knock?”

“Sans, I refuse to play your childish -”

“Knock knock?” He repeated, grinning even wider at his brother’s frustration.

“ _Sigh._ ”

“Who’s there?” Frisk shouted from the couch.

“ _Clothes._ ”

“ _Clothes_ who?” Frisk responded, bouncing up and down on the couch in unrestrained joy.

Sans looked straight at his brother and winked, “ _Clothes_ the door before you start the washing machine.”

Papyrus let out a yell of half-laughter and half-annoyance and Sans had to duck the balled-up sock that was thrown at his head. He ducked out the front door before his brother decided to throw anything else at him, grabbing his scarf and waving goodbye at a laughing Frisk.

He felt a warm glow in his chest that kept a grin on his face for the rest of his shift.


End file.
